Fandom The Thick of It
Character(s)/Pairing(s) Sam Cassidy, Terri Coverley, Glenn Cullen, Nicola Murray, Ollie Reeder, Malcolm Tucker; no pairings intended
Genre Crack/Gen/Humor
Rating G (for non language content) PG-13 (for language)
Word Count 712
Disclaimer The Thick of It c. Iannucci, BBC
Summary Sam keeps a lot of secrets. Some secrets even Malcolm doesn't know she's keeping.
Warning(s) possible spoilers for all series of The Thick of It
Notes This is what happens when I start talking cracky headcanons with Ruby. Two ratings because I can and some websites I crosspost to would like the MPAA evaluation.

Secrets

Sam kept many secrets. From Malcolm's exploitable allergies to secret meetings that the rest of the office were unaware. There were some things that Sam kept secret without acknowledgement, and when she entered Malcolm's office during a very slow Thursday, he was in the middle of one of those types of secrets.

"It's like finding the crack in the centre of a unibrow," Malcolm said cryptically, "and then threading a needle through only skin."

Sam placed the tea where she knew he wanted it on the desk. He was not actually talking to her, but simply venting. It had taken a month when she first started working for him to realize it was just something he did. It was always cryptic and it was always during slow days or whenever Malcolm needed to turn his brain off for a minute.

Sam left as quietly as she entered. She shut the door behind just as muttered insults burst from Malcolm mouth at his mobile screen. The office was also on a break. Some of the staff gathered around one of the desks with their mobiles out.

"I've got a score of ninety-nine," Nicola said. "Is that good?"

Glenn made a sound that was bordering on undignified but stopped it half way through. "Yes, of course that's good," he said with a twinge of jealous darkness to his voice.

"I've got twenty," Terri said. "Something always happens before I can get too far."

Before anyone else could mention their own scores, Malcolm stalked out of the office. He slowed and observed the group. "What are you talking about?" It looked almost ominous with that many people gathered around their mobiles. "What's happened?"

"Nothing's happened," Ollie said. "They've been playing that dumb game. Flying bird something."

"Flappy bird," Nicola said. "I've got the highest score." She showed Malcolm her mobile.

Malcolm took in the image on her mobile a moment before his eyebrows furrowed and he moved his neck while making a face as though the thought of mobile games melted his brain instantly. "Flappy fucking flying birds aren't going to save this disaster of an education policy. Maybe if they were flying to get to a place where we aren't seen as massive hypocrites would any of it matter. Unless they're going to flap their ways to every single news outlet and tell them that Nicola Murray isn't saying one thing and doing another, does this thing do anything other than wait to suck your brains out through your eyeballs." He pointed at Ollie and Nicola. "You two need to stop thinking about how to get some piss stained rugby ball through some field of green tentacles and get all of our asses out of the tentacles that is this education cock up." He gave the group the evil eye and they all scattered back to where they needed to be.

Sam watched all of this and quietly went back to her own work at her desk. She felt more than saw Malcolm walk towards her.

"Do I have any messages?" he asked.

"No," she said. She looked up at him, holding his gaze a moment. "You've got ten minutes until your next meeting."

Malcolm nodded. He ran a hand through his hair and rested his fingers on the top of her desk briefly. "Let me know before you send them in."

"Yes," Sam said, "of course." She watched him wander back into his office. She sighed silently. Sam was certain that Malcolm did not know that she knew what he was going to do once he prepared for the meeting and had nothing to do but wait for it to begin. This secret began a little over four years ago when Malcolm started formulating insults about pigs whenever he had free time in front of his mobile. Two years ago, he muttered things about stripes and bombs. Now it was muttering about pipes and gaps. Sam knew Malcolm played any fad mobile game that came along. He started playing Flappy Bird two weeks ago. She knew that his high score was only three.

Sam, of course, kept all of this to herself including the fact she played the game before falling asleep for a few nights now and her high score was fifteen.

The End